Living to Die
by Itadakimasu
Summary: Stuck inside a euphoria where others persecute her for the lowly upbringings of her mother, Kagome is forced to run away. 3 years have gone by, and she lives day by day as a petty fugitive, until Inu-yasha, puppet master of life comes to take her away. Pl


Summary: Stuck inside a euphoria where others persecute her for the lowly upbringings of her mother, Kagome is forced to run away. 3 years have gone by, and she lives day by day as a petty fugitive, until Inu-yasha, puppet master of life comes to take her away. 

AN: OK, this is one of those random ideas I've had popping into my head. I don't know where it came from, but the basic background is that Inu-yasha is this 'mysterious figure' who no-one's ever seen but everyone's heard of. He employees people to do random jobs that tie in with his purpose. 0__0;; 

Please review! And Inu-yasha and co. are mine. Mine I tell you. Not

~*~

It was worthless fighting against those men. Kagome sighed deviously as she molded her body in an aquiline stance. She still had the larger, dim-witted one to go. Her burned arm raised to the common fighting stance and she taunted the 'hulk' in front of her. He certainly looked like one, she mused, just paint his face green and yippee, the perfect comic character! 

                The words bitter were always associated with her no matter where she went. 

                _Wonder where Mother is?_

                Snap back to reality. 

                He crunched his fists angrily. His beaten down friends began to stir slowly. 

                _Shit, I can't take them all on again. _

                Cheering. 

                _Stop shouting my name! Deprives me of concentration. _

"Come on Kagome! I bet 10 grand on you!" 

                _Miroku? He's here? Oh God, this is bad. _

"Little girls shouldn't fight," the Hulk mentioned, waving a stubby finger in front of her face. And that was her cue. _Little girl? _Kagome was no little girl! She was anything but. Though she was young in years, she had been through so many difficulties in life that no-one would have ever dreamed of! She was the perfect picture of tainted innocence. 15 years, it had been, since she was born into this abysmal world, and 15 years it would be for her to depart from it. 

                A punch here. 

                _Swish_. 

                _Take that, you stupid thug. _

Blood came spurting out.

                _I can do so much more damage than that_, she thought, narrowing her eyes as she dodged skeptically from the man's heavy punch. _Don't let me get that in the stomach;_ she remembered a time when she was new to the game and had received a whole mass of injuries. One stitch to the stomach, a couple of fractured ribs and a bent neck. And for this, she had received no medical attention whatsoever; Bard the bar-owner might have seemed dim-witted, but even he knew to steer away from authorities; especially when what he was doing was illegal. 

                _If they come in here right now,_ she wiped the sweat off her brow_, we're all going down the drain_. She took in a deep breath as she edged away into the alcove of the room, causing a crowd to open a path for her._ Come on, 'H' girl, you can do this. He's just a stupid guy after all. Imagine it, after this you can eat all the food you want_. 

                "That's," – Punch – "right," – Kick. The Hulk flattened onto the floor. A large echoing sound enervated within the room as men threw their hands into the air. _Serves you right for betting against me._

                Kagome smirked evilly as she felt a large hand close around her ankle. 

                _Too bad, I invented playing dirty_, she screamed in her mind, kicking the Hulk's head limply. It didn't take much energy to knock him out again. 

                "Kagome!" Miroku grinned devilishly. Oh yes, at times he certainly did seem like a renovated version of Satan. A perfect agglomeration of eerie auras. She weaved her way through the bulky crowd and received quite a few pats on the back. _You never knew, did you?_

                "Hey, Mir!" she slapped his hand. 

                Knock on the head. 

                Wink. 

                Their daily ritual. 

                "Flawless fighting, that was," he commented gruffly, raising his eyebrows suggestively. In another life he might have owned a whore-house; evidently, his previous bad karma had caused him to become deprived of girls and their 'wonderful' assets. "But you were kind of beat out of it in the end, weren't you?" he annotated. 

                "Not really, just thinking," she replied, snatching away the mug of ale Miroku held in his hand. 

                "Hey! That was mine!" He tried jumping as she raised it in the air. She drank the warm liquid lavishly, thanking God for the immediate 'blanket' she felt cloaked inside her. That was her life; fight, beer, eat. It was a lonely circle, but she survived. Barely. 

                "Thinking?" Miroku mused, grabbing a free drumstick, "now that's," he bit into it, "new for you." 

                "You trying to insult my intelligence?" She grinned lopsidedly. "Look, a bird!" she pointed. Her dexterous fingers mingled over to his drumstick. Slowly but surely, she took a large hunk out of the cold chicken. 

                "Argh, you get me every time, baby-girl, every time," Miroku winked. 

                "What's with your eye, baby-girl?" she mocked, "it's twitching real bad. Maybe you should get glasses. Big, fat ones to make you see that not every woman on earth wants to bear your child." 

                "Hey!" Miroku defended, "not my fault over here! My momma want a grand-kid my momma going to get a grand-kid!" 

                "Your sisters and brothers gave her 30 grandchildren. Shouldn't she be happy by now?" 

                "Well, she wants one from her favorite son--…" 

                "Favorite son? Your momma would probably like to slap my ass more than she would call you her favorite son." 

                "Don't talk about my momma that way!" he scowled good-naturedly. Laughter emanated from her death-filled body as her eyes twinkled dangerously savagely.

                And so they drank to the occasion as Bard the bar-owner warned them not to finish another barrel and the Hulk ran storming out of the joyous room like a pansy. 

                "How interesting," a cloaked man hovered above the premises, stroking the green snake wrung around his neck. "How very, very interesting." 

                "Miroku!" Kagome shouted out, welcoming herself to an early dawn. The birds outside were chirping as noisily as usual, inviting themselves to an early death. If only she had a shotgun. Too bad Bard didn't allow them to have guns. He said guns were for the weak, real fighters fought with hands. Oh yes, Bard was ever the one for adages. 

                She rose slowly from her bed as she contemplated the very many ways she could skewer her friend on a stick. It had been weeks since he last pulled his pranks, and she had gotten rather used to the idea that he had outgrown them. Apparently not, for her head was covered in wise droppings of honey and her bed was ridden with marshmallows. 

                Kagome picked one up as she dipped it into the honey droppings on her forehead. _Good food_, she thought._ Imagine him coming in here seeing that I have eaten his precious marshmallow collection. It serves him right_. 

                Almost as if on cue, Miroku skidded into the room, trying out his latest pose. "What is it my dear honey buns?" he whispered lecherously, only to receive staring glances from the fuming girl in the room. "Jeez, it's like you've got PMS or something." 

                "Do you want to die?" Kagome asked sweetly, eating yet another marshmallow. She watched vainly as his eyes widened to the size of flying saucers. Sweet, sweet revenge. She loved the way that word just rolled off of her tongue. 

_--Mother won't be very proud of you –_

_--Who cares about her?—_

_--Obviously you do.—_

"Kag?" Miroku whimpered, ready for the vile beating he was willing to receive. No-one messed with Kagome Higurashi, not if they didn't want to die. 

_--Mother's large hand molded the tresses of her raven hair..—_

_--"Tell me a story, tell me a story!—_

That girl is dead, Kagome warned herself, she's forever embedded in the past. 

_--"Once upon a time,"_

Soft voices. So soft, she hated herself for feeling this weak. 

_--"There was a prince--…" _

When will I get my prince? 

_--"Kagome…"_

_--"Kagome…"_

"Kagome!" Miroku shouted, waving a calloused hand in front of her dreaming face. She was so talented at playing the indifferent stranger that it edged him to believe she was thinking so deeply. 

"Yeah, sorry I kind of zoned out, not a morning person," she replied lamely. Miroku knew better though. But he also knew that if he asked her of what she was contemplating, the girl would only become even more distant. He was not as shallow as others thought of him to be; sometimes it proved to be to his benefit, particularly in business dealings and the like. Sometimes he used that advantage to better understand his few friends. 

"Miroku?" Kagome's perky personality was back again. 

"What is it, my sweet?" 

_That's right, just be that guy again, the one I can handle. _She encouraged him silently_¸ you know I can't stand it when you go all psyche inspector on me._

"Stop calling me that, I am not sweet nor am I yours," she said haughtily. 

"Well then, let us go outside, bitter." 

"That's more like it." 

So the two walked, arm in arm outside of the small room she called a house; completely oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. 

"Please," the old beggar pleaded. Kagome could see that his eyes had been gouged out, as had his tongue. She shuddered, much to her distress. _Don't worry, he can't see you_. "I –eed –o-ey." 

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything on me," Kagome explained, patting her non-jingling purse. Miroku was out doing his usual girl-scouting. _Bastard_. 

"I thell carthes," there was no mistaking the gurgling of his voice. She could feel the bile running up her lungs. _Pneumonia_. 

_--"You're sick, baby-girl."—_

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested," that came out colder than expected. She bowed her head in shame. 

"Justhe have one," he coughed heavily, handing her an envelope with his cleaner hand. She saw the bloody imprints of scarred skin loiter on his arm. _Bite marks, scratch marks. _

_--"That's not healthy for you."—_

"Thank you," she gave in, "thank you very much," Kagome bit her lip, touching the white envelope with her hand. _Please don't touch me_. Her prayers were not answered today. 

"Ghood luck," the man slurred, inviting himself to touch the smooth skin of her left arm. He opened his eyelids to reveal empty sockets.

_--"It's only a beggar," Mother pulled her along the street.—_

Kagome released herself from the man's tight grasp, stuffing the envelope in one of her jacket pockets. It fell out. _Got to get new clothes_, she reminded herself, picking up the envelope from the street. 

"Ithe thee the one mather?" the old beggar turned around as a pair of grueling arms held his shoulders. His pot-belly sunk low as his master grinned. He could feel it in the air, something was about to change for the worse. 

"Oh you have served me well, Jakotsu, very well," his master hissed. 

--Her hand flew to her daughter's forehead, clearing the small girl's view of the world in front of her. 

_--The woman bent down to whisper sweet nothings into the child's eyes. _

_--"Poser! We hope you die!" _

_--Shut the kids up, she screams, please drive them away from me. _

_--Her eyes open widely, the scathing yellow of them promise nothing but contempt. _

_--"Sleep, my child, sleep--…"_

Kagome woke up, breathless from the excruciating dream. _Memories?_ She vaguely recalled the woman from her dream. _Mother?_ _Come on 'H' girl, you can't dwell in the past anymore_. She tapped her fingertips on the crummy, wooden light-stand situated near her bed. As if intended to, her fingers wove their ways onto the white envelope the beggar had given her. She was terrified of opening it; what if it was another one of those viruses that sprung up onto you? She had heard of the anthrax terrors in that country called America. 

_Open it, 'H' girl, it's not going to bite_. 

She eventually gave into the voice as her trembling fingers cut through the delicate paper. _What is that?_ She mumbled as a small 'clink' filtered through the room. She gasped as she saw the metallic rings bound together on a chain. 

_Where is this from?_ She breathed heavily, pretending to be asleep as Bard entered the room. 

"Hmph, no noise in here," he stated rather plainly, slamming the door. 

Kagome sighed in relief as she bolted up. Her hand jerked the 2 rings out. 

_Where have I seen this?_

--"Baby girl," Mother says as a small trinket pops up from nowhere. 

_It can't be, could it? _

She shivered underneath the thick covers, fingers scaling through the contents of the envelope. _A joker card_, she chuckled, _and a name?_

Her breath stopped short as she read the piece of paper. 

"Inu-yasha?"

AN: OK, first of all, I don't know why I wrote this, second of all, please review! More servings of angst and weird realizations are going to come. And some useless descriptions here and there will serve for other chapters  ^___^ 


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